Friday, February 15, 2013

Packing

Packing.


The dog was not amused by all the packing. He sat in a sunbeam and watched as the Boy and I filled suitcases and tried to figure out what went where. 

Time for leaving. I was upset, but this is how it is for the moment and I had no choice. 

Things kept getting tossed about with desperate attempts to find all the things that needed to be found.

He stumbled across a G-string.

“Whose is this?”

“Uh...”

“Is it yours?”

“Actually, it is not mine." That G-string is part one of many of the unanswered questions about female clothing that ends up in my room.

“So you don’t know whose cut-up bra that is in the corner?”

“Uh…actually I do know where that come from.”

“And these?”

“Maybe it is better you not ask.”

He smiled. He kissed me. He held my head in his hands. He told me he loved me. And I know he does. 

A few more months and we would be back in the same space, one way or another.

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